


Follow you into the Dark

by macgyvershe



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - fandom
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, John's Rescue, Rescue, Tunnels of London
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 13:26:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is following Sherlock into the dark on a hazardous chase. John is lost and unconscious. How will they find him? Who will save the day? From John's POV. From Sherlock's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John's POV

John woke up in a dark tunnel.

“Sherlock,” John ventured? The sound of his voice reverberated back from the walls of the tunnel.

John got to his knees then using the wall he pushed himself to stand. A wave of dizziness over took him and he faltered coming back to his knees.

“Okay, not a good idea,” John says sitting back down, leaning against the wall while his equilibrium settles.

There was a small amount of light in his immediate area which is coming from above. John examines himself in the dim light. Everything seemed to be in working order, except for the vertigo. Now a mild headache begins.

John pulls his mobile out and finds there is no reception here. Where ever here was?

“Where the hell are you when I need you, Sherlock?”

_‘I’m here, John,’_ a familiar voice answers him.

There sitting on a small ledge opposite him, Sherlock sits; his great coat collar turned up, his blue/grey alpaca scarf curled round his neck, but he is totally transparent. An apparition if John has ever seen one.

_‘How can I be of service, John,'_ Sherlock asks? _‘Do you recall what happened to you?’_

“You’re not real.” John said eyeing the image that is probably being conjured up by a few mixed up neural pathways. John rubs his eyes then dusts his hands through his hair and finds a trace of blood at the back of his head.

_‘Are you okay, John,’_ Sherlock sounds concerned?

“Apparently not,” John answers the hallucination.

_‘Can you remember what happened? Where you are?’_

“Every things a bit wonky,” John closes his eyes and leans back against the wall.

_‘Focus, John.’_

“I was following Sherlock into the tunnels.”

_‘There you go John. It’s coming back to you. You always follow me everywhere don’t you?’_ Sherlock smiles one of his crooked smiles.

“The tunnels are like a labyrinth. I turned a corner and Sherlock is gone. I kept running. I fell into a lower chamber. I didn’t see the opening until too late; too dark.”

_‘Very good, John.’_

John looks at his watch.

“Jezzus, I’ve been out for over five hours. Sherlock will be‒.”

_‘I am totally concerned that you lie injured and unable to call for help.’_

“He’s Sherlock; he will methodically go over the terrain until he finds me.” John reassures himself.

_‘He’s been through this area twice, with no word from you.’_ The hallucination said calmly.

“That can’t be good, even if you are an illusion.” John is starting to worry.

“Okay, you’re supposed to be the world’s only consulting detective. What do you recommend?” John waited for the hallucination to lie to him.

_‘Clearly, you are mildly incapacitated, which makes attempting to find your own way out highly impractical. You could yell periodically, but this will undoubtedly tax your already weakened state. I would venture that your mobile would be your best bet.’_

“The mobile’s not working down here. No signal. I don’t think you’ve thought this through, Mister Illusion.” John says disappointed in the specter’s answer.

_‘You can’t call out, but your device can produce music. Set the music to play continuously the noise of the music should bring Sherlock to you.’_

John took a long breath.

“That just might work.” John pulls up ‘Welcome to London’ by Arnold and Price one of his favorite orchestrations and sets it to play repeatedly on his mobile; loudly.

Sometime later Sherlock is shouting down the tunnel at John.

“John, I’m coming down.” Sherlock descends, his foot in the loop of a thick rope that is lowered down.

“John, I’ve been looking for you for hours, how badly are you injured?” Sherlock disengages from the rope and steps over to John, kneeling down to examine his only friend.

“I’m a bit banged up, Sherlock. Sorry for the delay, I was knocked out cold for some time.”

Sherlock is busy examining John’s injury with a small flashlight.

“Can you stand,” Sherlock holds on to John and gently urges him upward. “There are people up top to help us.” Sherlock quickly doubles the loop on the end of the rope.

John places his foot into one of the loops and Sherlock uses the other. He puts his arms around John and grabs the rope. Sherlock wouldn’t let John fall.

John looks one last time at the shadow Sherlock sitting in the ledge.

“Thanks, Sherlock,” he says finally acknowledging the shade.

“You’re welcome,” the real Sherlock says as he holds John tightly. “Up, now!” Sherlock yells up to his helpers at the surface of the tunnel above.

The illusion steps down from the ledge and walks into the light from the tunnel above. It can see the two friends ascending to safety. 

_‘You are quite welcome, my dear John, I will always follow you into the dark.’_ The spectral Sherlock disappears to where he’d come from; into the mind of John Watson; a friend in need of his good counsel.


	2. Sherlock's POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story from Sherlock's POV

Sherlock is frantic. John and he had been chasing the assassin through the subterranean tunnels. John had been right behind him as the tunnels were too narrow for him to be at Sherlock’s side.

Sherlock had lost the assassin in the maze. Giving up and being too winded to go on. He’d stopped and rested his hands on his knees as his breathing came back to normal. Then it came to him that John is not behind him. Oh god.

“John, JOHN,” Sherlock yelled into the tunnels. The reverberation from the walls is all that comes back at him. There are side tunnels and lower tunnels all along the route that he had traveled. He hurriedly walks back to where he had started from, being as quiet as is possible, so as to hear John’s voice. Nothing.

The tunnels were drainage of a sort. They were cold, damp and hellish and if John is injured and unconscious he must be found immediately. Sherlock needs help in this, but stopping to round up people from his homeless network would take precious time; time that could mean life or death for his only friend. He makes his way to the surface at break-neck speed. Making contact with his homeless network in record time, he finds those who know the tunnels well. But it all takes time; time that is working against him. Sherlock knows worrying about John won’t help him. So he sets his newly formed emotions aside. Digs into the task at hand; how far had he traveled before he lost John? He looked for signs, but the damp ground and slick walls gave up little clues.

“Captain,” Scout (who always called Sherlock Captain out of respect) one of Sherlock’s young lieutenants comes forward to report “we’ve been through all the auxiliary tunnels on this level and he’s not to be found. We started looking into the lower feeds but there a tons of them. And if he fell and isn’t functioning well, he could walk the wrong way down a feed and get lost. If you don’t know these tunnels, getting turned around is a certainty.”

“Continue, Scout. Make sure everyone keeps as quiet as possible. We need to hear him if he calls.”

“Aye, Captain.” Scout turns to go then turns back to Sherlock. “We’ll find him Captain. We won’t stop till we find him.” Scout leaves to continue the search.

Sherlock looks at his watch. It has been over five hours and still no word. Time isn’t his friend. He’s tracked the area that he had run through yet again.

‘John, where are you John? I know you are here close. Please give me a sign. Please John, do this for me.’ Sherlock thinks as he revisits the dark, damp tunnels where the chase had begun. Somewhere his best and only friend lays injured beyond his reach. Sherlock burns the brighter, moving again and again into the same areas.

(-_-)

It is going on six hours.

“Captain, maybe you should go top side and take a breather?” His young lieutenant is wary of Sherlock’s tiredness.

Sherlock shakes off his fatigue like a mantle of dew.

“I’ll be fine, once we’ve found him. Don’t worry about me, Scout. I’ve been through worse.”

It is then that Sherlock freezes. Music from an electronic device reverberates through the tunnels. 

“Oh my god, Captain,” Scout can hear it too.

“Quiet!” Sherlock’s command reverberates through the tunnels to everyone within the range of his deep melodic voice. There it is, the tiny sound of music playing. It is almost impossible to pinpoint the direction. Sound bounces here and there and the reverb is constant and confusing.

Sherlock closed his eyes. His fantastic computer-like brain begins to process all incoming data. Filtering out the sounds of the other rescuers, the reverb, and the normal background noises‒he zones in on the music. ‘Welcome to London’ plays, one of John’s favorite orchestrations. 

“Thank you, John, thank you,” Sherlock whispers. “Scout, we need that rope. Follow me.”

Scout turns to his mates and everyone follows Sherlock into the dark, their multiple flashlights haloing him as he moves ahead of them. Twice Sherlock stops and has everyone quiet as he closes his eyes again and literally follows the music with his acute sense of augmented hearing. There, not far from where he’d been not more than several hours ago the music is coming from below.

“John, I’m coming down.” Sherlock shouts from above. A three legged brace is placed over the hole and a rope is positioned over the top of the brace. Scout, men and women alike take hold of the rope as Sherlock places his foot in the loop at the end of the rope and steps out into the tunnel. He was lowered down. Sherlock is down below for several minutes.

“Up, Now!” Sherlock calls from below and the many people there pull the two men up easily. As they get to the tri-pod rig, several ladies and a man grab them and pull them to the lip of the shaft where they sit as they disentangled from the rope.

“Sherlock, it’s so good to see you. I hoped you’d hear the music,” John said.

“That was a great idea, John. It’s good to have you back.” Sherlock helps John to his feet, embracing him in a warm hug. Ever one cheers.

John has to admit it was a great idea and his foggy brain wonders where exactly that idea came from?


End file.
